


Coordination

by canonjohnlock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Bi!Dean, Cute, Dean being cute, Fluff, High School, History Buff!Cas, M/M, Nervous!Dean, Prom, Promposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 07:04:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4253940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canonjohnlock/pseuds/canonjohnlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is asking Castiel to prom. After three and a half years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coordination

This was it. He had been psyching himself up for this for three and a half damn years. Fifteen and still innocent to the world, he was going to ask him to homecoming freshman year. He had a whole plan, too. He’d do a scavenger hunt, leaving little post-it notes all over the school. Of course, he would be at the end of the trail with a bouquet of flowers. But he chickened out.

Then there was homecoming sophomore year. He told his best friend, Calum, that he was going to ask him. Calum looked shocked. “Dude, that’s gay.” He hissed the word and glanced around. “You can’t be…. that!” So Dean, again, didn’t ask him.

Homecoming junior year was a flop because someone in his grade came out and then was bullied into switching schools. So he fucked a bunch of dumb cheerleaders, discovered he had a knack for fucking, and after a threesome realized he was bi. And that dick was pretty rad. Prom that year was a flounder because he ended up taking Tracy Moore who used too much tongue.

Then there was homecoming senior year. And he decided that the time was now. Until someone saw him leaving flowers in his locker and screeched, “FAG!” so he had to clobber him in the jaw and ended up getting suspended so he couldn’t even go to homecoming.

By prom of senior year, he had decided, What the hell. I only have a month left. What can I lose? So that’s how he ended up spending twenty dollars on a bouquet of lilies and thirty on a box of Esther Price chocolates. Fifty bucks out the window for one stupid boy. Except he wasn’t stupid. He was perfect in every way.

Dean first met Castiel in freshman biology class. Castiel sat on the other side of the room, but Dean couldn’t miss him. He was always raising his hand and asking questions. During tests, his glasses slid down his nose and his tongue poked out and Mr. Clark yelled at Dean and told him to “stop making googly eyes at Miss Roberts,” who Dean was most certainly not staring out. Don’t get him wrong, though. After sophomore year she really filled out, lost the braces and frizzy hair and learned to use the scar above her eyebrow to her advantage. Now she’s going to college to be a doctor.

Dean didn’t actually talk to Castiel until the end of sophomore year. It had mostly been a let-me-stare-at-you-creepily-from-afar sort of thing, from Dean’s point of view anyway. Then Castiel ended up being the last person to pick a partner and Dean was all that was left and he tried to hide his excitement but his dick was too eager. Dean had been thinking of all the dirty things he’d do to Castiel, which had been a very bad idea, even though little Dean was enjoying it.

“Hello,” Castiel had said quietly as he slid into the desk next to Dean.

“Hey,” Dean responded nonchalantly, at least he hoped it was nonchalant. He draped his jacket over his lap inconspicuously. Friggin’ hormones.

Castiel tapped his pen against his straight white teeth. Dean had never seen Castiel with braces. Not even deep in the recesses of his FaceBook, which Dean had not stalked. The boy was basically born perfect. Of course he was. Dean was sure he basically fell from heaven. Castiel’s gravelly voice grabbed Dean’s attention. “So, do you wanna do the Vietnam War, the Korean War, either of the World Wars, the Cold War, or the Gulf War?”

Dean shrugged. He hadn’t been listening to the teacher drone on. He kinda regretted it now. “Whichever you want to do. I don’t care.”

Castiel arched his eyebrows. “You don’t care? You don’t care about the millions of deaths these wars caused?”

Dean held his hands up in surrender. “Look, Cas, buddy-”

“Cas?”

“Can I call you Cas? Look, I didn’t mean that I didn’t care about the wars. I just meant it doesn’t matter to me which war we present or whatever.”

“No one has ever called me Cas,” Castiel said in response.

“Does it bother you? Because I can stop; even though Castiel is a mouth full.” Dean would have certainly liked a mouthful of Castiel right then.

“Cas is… fine. Yeah, fine.”

Dean stared at him a moment. “Class is almost over. Do wanna exchange numbers and meet at a library or something like that? I got a card and shit so we can like, print stuff and… stuff.” Dean blushed.

Cas grinned. “Yeah, okay.”

Dean and Cas had spent four days working on a powerpoint of the Gulf War because according to Cas, it was extremely underrated. Besides learning more than he wanted to know about the Gulf War, Dean learned Cas was the youngest of eight kids (eight, really!) and had a keen interest in history and geography. He could name every country in the world alphabetically, backwards, smallest to largest, largest to smallest, in both square miles and population, and alphabetically, forwards and backwards again, by capital. Dean impressed Cas by balancing stuff on his head. Cas laughed with him so Dean considered it a win. Dean also learned that Cas’ dad was a deadbeat and his mother had died in a car crash so he basically raised by his older brother who was about eighteen years older. Dean told him that his mom had died in a house fire and his dad never really got over it. They bonded over deadbeat fathers and dead mothers.

Dean thought of all this while he waited by Cas’ beat up car. After the Gulf War project sophomore year, they hadn’t really talked. They texted sometimes, but only about tests or exams or homework. Dean looked over his promposal. He had written ‘Prom?’ in washable paint on the side windows in his best handwriting. The ‘m’ still turned out weird, but Dean didn’t dare mess it up more. Sam stood a few yards away, holding the camera he used for yearbook, ready to snap a photo at any time. Sam gave Dean a thumbs up.

Dean nodded, exhaled, and squatted on the right side of the car so Cas wouldn’t see him when he walked out. A few people had gathered around and were craning their necks to see who was asking who. Dean felt his stomach flip. He could bail now… He could just run and not look back…

Then it was too late. Dean heard the scuffling of footsteps and a saw a shadow loom across the asphalt. Definitely Cas. It had the same hunch and mess of hair. Dean swallowed. The bystanders looked on eagerly. Dean said a prayer and stood up. Cas saw him holding the flowers and chocolate, and blushed. Murmurs arose from the crowd.

“Dean Winchester?”

“I thought he was straight.”

“Straight as an arrow I thought.”

“Castiel is straight, isn’t he?

“Will the school even let them go together?”

“Will Castiel say yes?”

“They’re a hot couple.”

“I’d pay money to see them fuck.”

Dean blocked it all out. He got down on one knee (cheesy, he knows) and offered the flowers. Castiel accepted them and blushed.

Dean began his spiel. “Castiel Thomas Novak,” his voice wobbled. Dean began again, stronger this time. “Castiel Thomas Novak, will you do me the honor and go to prom with me, Dean Nicholas Winchester?”

Castiel blushed harder; his whole face and neck were red. Dean hoped that was a good sign. Castiel nodded, slowly at first then faster. “Yes. Yesyesyesyesyes. Yes.”

Dean grinned wider. “Good answer, because now you get these chocolates.”

Cas laughed breathily and Dean stood up. Cas pulled him into a hug and buried his face in Dean’s neck.

Dean chuckled and hugged him back. The crowd cheered. Some snapped pictures. “Now we gotta coordinate ties.”

Cas smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

 

 


End file.
